5 - no, 6 - papers for August
At the right is a picture of what is increasingly becoming my work space. It's the bedroom floor.
What is more significant than the answer to the question, "don't you have tables at home?" is why I let my papers due this month balloon to three term papers and two - no, wait, three - shorter papers. Presently I am working on a beginning (and beginner's) conceptual comparative between Derrida and Nishida. I said that to substantiate the first sentence, and in case you were wondering whether I put that book with the exotic-looking cover in there on purpose.
Several things spring to mind, now. Apart from my Methods of Research professor echoing, first, advice in my head against the evils of binge writing (which I should have paid attention to), and second, warning (which I also should have paid attention to) about the tendency of putting priorities in order to avoid the first priority becoming first priorities, because it accumulates into the place of immaculate untouchability - I am also reminded to take this picture and write about it. I figure I owe myself a break, having written in 10 hours 10 pages which I doubt I will ever read carefully again, due to the sheer horror of having written them. I haven't even read my master's thesis until now (which I defended 5 years ago), having written all 220 rambling pages within 3 months. This is not an achievement: it's desperate production at the throes of manic, undisciplined academiasis.
Yes, yes, the moral lesson is to never put off doing tomorrow what you can do today, and that you have to be a responsible student, and scholarship should be disciplined and sustained, earnest effort, and that you should have tables at home, and realistic expectations of yourself as well as common decency to be responsible for your commitments. I get it. And I will not proselytize, being about the poorest example of what I will spout moral lessons about. So I will rationalize this entry as an exercise in writing, and thank everything and everyone I can that people still let me work and and study and write and have bedroom floors.
And, of course, try to clean up my act - not to mention the bedroom floor.
What is more significant than the answer to the question, "don't you have tables at home?" is why I let my papers due this month balloon to three term papers and two - no, wait, three - shorter papers. Presently I am working on a beginning (and beginner's) conceptual comparative between Derrida and Nishida. I said that to substantiate the first sentence, and in case you were wondering whether I put that book with the exotic-looking cover in there on purpose.
Several things spring to mind, now. Apart from my Methods of Research professor echoing, first, advice in my head against the evils of binge writing (which I should have paid attention to), and second, warning (which I also should have paid attention to) about the tendency of putting priorities in order to avoid the first priority becoming first priorities, because it accumulates into the place of immaculate untouchability - I am also reminded to take this picture and write about it. I figure I owe myself a break, having written in 10 hours 10 pages which I doubt I will ever read carefully again, due to the sheer horror of having written them. I haven't even read my master's thesis until now (which I defended 5 years ago), having written all 220 rambling pages within 3 months. This is not an achievement: it's desperate production at the throes of manic, undisciplined academiasis.
Yes, yes, the moral lesson is to never put off doing tomorrow what you can do today, and that you have to be a responsible student, and scholarship should be disciplined and sustained, earnest effort, and that you should have tables at home, and realistic expectations of yourself as well as common decency to be responsible for your commitments. I get it. And I will not proselytize, being about the poorest example of what I will spout moral lessons about. So I will rationalize this entry as an exercise in writing, and thank everything and everyone I can that people still let me work and and study and write and have bedroom floors.
And, of course, try to clean up my act - not to mention the bedroom floor.
I hope the next post is not about how the situation has escalated to your work stuff being on the bed and you sleeping on the floor.
ReplyDeleteOr to there being no floor to speak of.
ReplyDelete